


To Live Forever

by Leela



Category: Forever Knight
Genre: F/M, Off-screen Minor Character Death, Vampire Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 16:32:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2116920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leela/pseuds/Leela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nat had known people who'd moved away, who'd taken jobs in other provinces or countries, and she'd blithely assumed that it was the same when vampires left.</p>
<p>It wasn't. Oh god, how so very much it wasn't. This was more like being in protective custody, leaving everyone and everything you've ever known and loved behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Live Forever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WaltD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaltD/gifts).



> **Beta:** Batdina
> 
> **A/N:** WaltD, I hope this comes close to what you imagined with your "(Don't Fear) The Reaper" prompt and that you enjoy this gift.

_Don't let me die!_

Nat wakes up with the echoes of her own voice ringing in her ears. She rolls over, careful not to disturb the covers, and curls up into a ball, facing the empty side of the bed. It's been months since she last had that nightmare, but it still leaves her shaken, crying. This morning, it also makes her wish Nick were home instead of away with Feliks on De Brabant Foundation business. 

Pushing herself up, she frowns at the stained pillowcase. "Guess I'm changing the sheets again, Luna," she tells the white cat at the end of the bed. 

Luna yawns widely, stretches, and gets up. She gives Nat a view of her backside before jumping to the floor.

"And that's your considered opinion, I suppose?" A smile tugs at Nat's lips as the tattered remnants of the dream fade away. She gets out of bed and reaches for her silk kimono-style dressing gown, tying the belt around her waist as she follows Luna to the kitchen. 

She turns on the TV instead of talking with Nick, because the noise makes her feel less alone, Everything else is routine: feeding Luna, booting up her laptop, warming up a mixture of blood and protein in the same oversized mug that she once drank coffee from at the Coroner's Office in Toronto.

A restless, aching feeling fills her as she opens her email, driving her up from the table, away from the computer, and out onto the balcony. Manhattan spreads out below her, and the Hudson River beyond that. It's far from the view she once had in Toronto. She'd known people who'd moved away, who'd taken jobs in other provinces or countries, and she'd blithely assumed that it was the same when vampires left.

It wasn't. Oh god, how so very much it wasn't. This was more like being in protective custody, leaving everyone and everything you've ever known and loved behind. 

She leans on the balcony railing, eyes focused on the far horizon, warm mug cradled between her hands. The river seems smooth at this distance, with only a few ships visible. So high up, she has to concentrate to hear the sounds of Manhattan, traffic and people, horns, engines, and voices. 

A wave of longing catches her by the throat and squeezes. Nick had tried to tell her so many times what it was like, but she hadn't been able to listen. Not when she was so afraid, when she couldn't think through the agony of having the building collapse around her, crushing her. 

Straightening up, she takes a sip from her mug and grimaces. The drink tastes better than the plain cow blood that Nick had once drunk, but ugh, it's nasty after it's cooled down. Time to warm it up again.

The mug is in the microwave, and she's watching the red numbers click down, the ache of hunger slowly banishing her homesickness, when the door bangs open. She's in the foyer, fangs pricking at her lower lip, barely hanging onto her control, ready to defend herself, when she recognizes the intruder.

"Nick?"

He looks... lost maybe? Worried, for sure. The line between his eyebrows is as deep as the Hudson.

"What are you doing home? I thought you were gone for..."

Before she can finish the sentence, he's closing the door and she's being swept into his arms, held close and tight. He kisses her, gently, carefully, without fangs, in the way he had when she was human. When the kiss ends, he cups her cheek with one hand and presses his lips to her forehead. Nat lets herself fall into the feeling, into the near overwhelming connection she now has with him. 

The ding of the microwave startles her out of it. Her heart beating a little harder, if not any faster, she pushes him away with trembling hands. He looks almost afraid, and that terrifies her. "Nick? You're scaring me."

He pulls her close again, and with his lips against the hair over her ear, something broken in his voice as he says, "There was an accident. A drunk driver." 

"Who?" Nat digs her fingers into his biceps. "Tell me."

"Amy." 

"No." She tries to break free, but his hold tightens, becoming almost painful, as if he's afraid she'll run away again. The way she had when she realized what being a vampire meant, how it felt. How it wasn't really anywhere close to being human, to anything she'd imagined when she was trying to "cure" Nick.

"No," she says again. "No. No. No." 

At some point, it becomes a scream. At some point, they fall to their knees, Nick still cradling her, as she cries. At some point, she's grateful he loves her enough to make sure she hears the news from him.

~*~

Toronto is different and almost painfully the same as it was when Nat left twenty or so years ago. She has a different name now. Her hair is cut short and dyed black with red and purple streaks in an attempt at disguise. It would fail hopelessly, if anyone were paying any attention, but Sarah is lost in grief and Amy's husband and son, Mike and Tyler, have never met Nat.

The irony is that everyone knows Nick is still alive. He could be down there, braving the dangers of an overcast and rainy day. He could be talking with Sarah, apologizing for not making it to the church ceremony, comforting her in all the ways that Nat can't. 

Her resentment brings the vampire close to the surface, simmering with anger. She wants to hurt him, to rend him with her fangs, carve her grief into him, punish him for forcing her to hide in the back, sheltered by the shadows of trees and a couple of above-ground tombs. 

Not trusting herself to speak, Nat stays quiet the entire time. She doesn't take her eyes off the grave. The words of the priest, both the rote phrases and the ones he speaks as a man who clearly cared for Amy, sear themselves into her brain. 

The burial lasts forever and is over in an instant. When the last mourner has left, one straggling teenage girl noticing them and giving them a quizzical look before running to catch up with the parents who are calling for her, Nat steps away from Nick and releases his hand. She'd like to go to the grave, to say goodbye, but it's not safe yet. She wants to be alone, to be far away from him, his love, and this _life_ he gave her.

Before she can tell herself no, remind herself how stupid and dangerous it is, Nat rises into the sky and races away. She doesn't stop flying until she's at Lake Ontario, in one of the old parks. The boarded-up pavilion is easy to break into, giving her protection in case the sun breaks through the clouds, and from the very few people who braved the drizzle to walk their dogs.

She sits on the dusty floor with her back against the cold cement wall. Dust motes float in the tiny beams of light that break through the spaces in the window boards, dancing over the crumpled up paper, leaves, and other trash that's found its way into the building. She brings her legs up, wraps her arms around them, and rests her head on her knees. 

Bloody red tears come from deep inside her, tearing out of her. She bites through her lip, holding in the screams that wrack her, threaten to wreck her. She hates herself, Nick, and the asshole who decided that it was a good night to go out for a few drinks and then drive himself home. And she knows, that if that bastard wasn't already dead, hadn't killed himself along with Amy and five other people, she'd have found a way to slaughter him, to torture him and make him feel one iota of the pain that he'd caused.

Eventually, she stops crying, leans her head back against the wall and listens. To the raindrops pattering down onto the roof, the wind rushing around, the waves slapping against the shore and the boardwalk, and the sounds of humans, dogs, and birds. Of life.

When the sun goes down, she emerges from the pavilion. This time she doesn't fly. She walks, alone among the crowds of people, down the streets until she finds a subway station. It's an easy trip back up to the cemetery, no need to change lines. 

Amy's grave is protected by a fake grass blanket and covered with flowers. There's no headstone yet, nothing to identify the woman who lived and loved for too few years. 

Nat can sense Nick hovering in the background, over where they stood to watch the burial, but she ignores him. She sinks to her knees next to the grave. The wet grass soaks into her pants, leaving them cold and damp, sticking to her skin. She places a bouquet of sunflowers on the top of the massed flowers. "I'm sorry," she says. "Sorry I left you. Sorry I wasn't there for you." 

The only response is a gust of wind swirling around her, not quite cold enough to make her vampire body shiver.

"I love you," Nat says. "Always." 

Pushing herself to her feet, she hesitates for a moment before going over to Nick. She stands in front of him, her hands curled into loose fists. 

"Nat, I'm sor..."

"Don't," she says, cutting him off, because she knows what he's going to say, what he's been doing to himself. "Don't apologize. Don't take on any of this guilt. None of it was your fault."

"If I hadn't brought you across."

"I'd be dead, six feet under our feet, and still not able to be here for my family."

Nick takes a deep breath and then lets it out. "I'm still sorry," he says, the words laden with old grief, "because I know how hard it is to watch your family die."

Memories of Richard, of hearing the monitor flatline and seeing him staked, momentarily blind Nat. "It's not any easier when you're mortal," she says, her voice cracked and broken, before taking that last step and reaching for him. She slides her arms around him and leans in, her lips brushing the lobe of his ear. "Take me home." 

He hugs her tightly, kisses her deeply, and they walk hand in hand to the car.

~*~

They hold hands all the way to the border, spending the drive talking about the investments that the foundation is making in technology for schools and about the offer to purchase the rights to Nat's blood-protein drink, about anything and everything but their families.

Halfway between the border and New York, Nick pulls off the highway and winds down a series of familiar roads to a vampire-run hotel buried deep in the woods of upstate New York. The owners aren't really strangers, but not close enough to do anything more than sign them in and wish them a good sleep. The suite is large, and the bedroom windowless. A thick velvet blackout curtain drops over the door, cutting out any light that could possibly come from the living room. 

Nat undresses slowly. When she's naked, she goes to stand in front of the full-length mirror. It's an old habit and a useless one. She can't see anything but the room, but she knows how she looks. Except for her hair, she looks exactly the way she did when she died. A little overweight, the softening of her jawline and the faint lines around her eyes just starting to show the consequences of aging and a high-stress job. 

"Beautiful," Nick says, coming to stand behind her. 

His hands are soft as they slide around her waist. One comes up to cup her breast, the other slides down to tangle in the curls of her pubic hair. A tremor of arousal goes through Nat. She leans back against him, resting her head on his shoulder. 

"You're blind," Nat says, twisting her head so she can see him.

He smiles at her, dips his head to lick at her lips. The position is awkward, but she doesn't offer to move. Instead she lifts her arms to loop them around his neck and wriggles back so she can feel the length of his cock pressing against her ass. 

His fingers slip down between her legs, drawing a gasp from her. She tilts her hips, parting her legs as best she can to give him access. "Nick," she murmurs. "Yes." 

He rubs a thumb over her nipple, rolls it in the same rhythm as his fingers move over her clit. Fiery need races up her spine. She rocks her hips, arches her back, encouraging him. One fingertip presses just inside her, in and out, faster and faster. 

"Please," Nat says, pushing down on his finger. Her fangs drop down, grazing her lips, scenting the air with her blood. 

Nick growls, deep and low, vibrating through her, and with a twist, and a brief moment in the air, they're on the bed. He rises over her, eyes flashing and fangs visible. 

She wants, oh how she wants, and she's not willing to play his games. Not this time. Not when she's desperate to feel alive. She places her hands on his chest, pushes him back, flipping them until he's leaning against the stacked pillows and she's straddling him. She rotates her hips, feeling his cock stir with the blood still in his system from dinner, again and again, until he's hard enough to slip inside her. 

The noise he makes, as if it's been punched out of him, makes her need even more. She catches his hands, laces their fingers together, and presses them against the bed. 

He arches up into her, thrusting up as she rolls her hips, slowly at first, then faster and faster. Need curls through her, driving her, filling her. Her fangs tingle and ache until she can do nothing but lean down and bite through his skin, into his jugular. 

Blood, sweet and salty, coppery with ecstasy, warm with memories, floods into her. And when he gives in, when he bites into her, taking her blood, completing them, she shatters into a thousand pieces. 

Afterward, when Nat's settled back into herself, they lie close together. She raises herself up on one elbow and looks down at him. 

"I love you," she says, and kisses him, swallowing down the words of love that he offers in return.


End file.
